This battered journal is a collection of loose pages in no particular order with that dates that extend over a century, they are torn, weathers, bloodied, and almost unreadable.


The voices scream in my head. Each one louder than the next. They demand my attention, my actions. I feel as if I am no longer in control. There is no sleep to bring reprieve, only endless hours of hunger and torment. I feel as if I am losing my mind. If only they could see me now, see what I have been brought to, they would not forgive me. I can not forgive myself. But I must chase the voices from my mind.